A love disapearing
by Bohemian Diamonds
Summary: After Satine's death, Christian falls into deep deppression and sorrow. Can he be saved before he goes too far? by who?Rating of this fic may change as it's uploaded
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: Wazzup yalls? Second half of Bohemian Diamonds here. I figured you all like variety so try not to get to depressed   
  
when reading my new fic. I haven't decided what to do with the nest chapter so please R+R! Enjoy!  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Part 1  
  
Christian's P.O.V.   
  
Dawn turns to dusk . The darkness of the night cascades around me. The light that once shined upon me is burned out. All hope is lost. The happiness that love gave me is now love's sorrow. I can no longer turn to face another woman again. Everything that brought me joy in this life is now shattered and broken. My friends are turned against me. Writing is impossible. I can't live live without her. She was my only lust,love, and inspiration. She's like the blood in my vains. Now that she's gone, I'm loosing it. All I could feel was hatrid. A force darker than jealousy,and even stronger than love has taken over my soul.  
  
I sat in my apartment looking over the deserted street in Montmarte. The clock on my bedside table read 1:00 AM. The kitchen table was covered with empty absainth bottles and what was left of the tobbaco. It's been nearly two months since Satine's death. The calender on the cabinet door marked the days that I've shut myself out. The world outside was unknown to me. There was nothing I could do.  
  
Toulouse's P.O.V.  
  
The street was filthy. Ripped bedding and trash covered the sidewalk . I haven't seen or heard from Christian in over a month now. Pains jolted my stomach when I think about what could of happened to him. The building was crumbled and bearly standing. I took the small key inside my pocket and reached up to the keyhole. It slid in and cracked the door open. As I made my way up the stairs I could smell the familiar scent of bitter absainth. When I reached the door, it was locked.  
  
"Christian! Christian are you in there?!" I hollered out menacingly.  
  
"Go away!" he groaned .  
  
" Christian, what are you doing in there? Are you getting drunk like me? ..................high?........a little bit of both?"  
  
"grrrr..."   
  
The door unlocked and opened slowly to reveal a man that I didn't recognize.  
  
" Whoa! What happened to you?" I asked in a worried tone of voice.  
  
" What do you think?"   
  
" What do I think about what? the beard and overgrown fingernails?" I asked him cheerfully letting myself in the darkened house  
  
" Toulouse? What exactly did you come here for?" 


	2. All Alone

Author's Note: Thanks to my awesome reviewers I'm updating this story. Oh, and try not to take parts to personally. I'm having a bit of trouble thinking up chapter three so please R+R! Enjoy!  
  
Part 2  
  
The door closed gently and I was still staring at him. He didn't even rise above my waist,the creepy fellow. He was once my best friend. Now, I know nothing of him. Why was he here? What did he want from me? I had absolutely nothing for him.  
  
" What did you come here for? Are you going to tell me or not?"  
  
He was too busy sniffing the empty absainth bottles on the table to listen.  
  
"Hello!Are you listening to me?"  
  
" Hmmmmm? Oh,yes I forgot. Harold Zidler of the Moulin Rouge said he wants to hire you back.."  
  
" Hire me back? Why would he want to do a stupid thing like that for?"  
  
" Because you were the best writer in Montmarte aside from the fact that you have to get over this, obsession."  
  
" oh so now you're calling it an obsession? How dare you come here and bring me such disgust!"  
  
" I'm sorry Christian look, the Moulin Rouge needs you."  
  
"No Toulouse, it needs her. Not me. It never needed me. She was the Sparkling Diamond.I was just the writer. Who cares what happens to me. Now that she's gone the Moulin Rouge will never come to life again."  
  
" Don't talk to me like that Christian. I have better things to do than to listen to you mope about her. Don't you think I've heard enough crap about this incident already?"   
  
" Well if all you're going to do is complain about my "obsession" than get out of here! Get out you bastard!"  
  
He stared at me in disbelief.  
  
"Fine. If that's how you're going to be then I will. Nothing you do is going to bring her back. It's best you just move on with your life. There are bigger and better things for you Christian. You're just too pathetic to notice them."  
  
" Fuck you and get out of my house!How the hell could you do this to me? I thought you were my friend Toulouse."  
  
" I am. I'm just sick and tired of you being so depressed and sorry for yourself. Take a bath, you smell terrible." he spat before walking back through the door.  
  
"Yeah what -ever! Go tell Harold to shove his offer up his ass because I won't show!" I yelled through the door.   
  
Anger was beginning to shoot through me like a bullet. I wanted to get over this but I couldn't. My sorrrow was turning into pain and the things that once made me happy are never to return. Even Toulouse failed me. My one best friend that I thought I could count on is calling my undying love for Satine an obsession, and it's killing me. I was completely broken-down and worthless. My life as a Bohemian was torn apart. The best thing that I could do was to get as far away from here as possible.  
  
Sorry it's short! The next one will be longer I promise. I hope you liked it! 


	3. At the train station

Thanks reviewers! You've encouraged me to write more. Stick with me. It does get better. Please R+R and I hope you all like it.  
  
Part 4  
  
The streets in Montmarte were crowded as usual. They were packed with actors,writers,and musicians;all were bohemian. The only one that stood out while rampaging down the sidewalk in his fine top coat and hat was me. Christian James was once the most cheerful person one could ever know. Now he was cold and lonesome. A person with such understandable misery. Everyone cleared the way when they saw my deep, angry gaze. I was like a black stain on a white sheet,always noticeable. Some have forgotten me. Others remember me as the jolly writer of "Spectacular, Spectacular", but what they don't know is, I'm no longer the person they once knew.  
  
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The line at the box office was tremendously long. Everyone wanted to go to Paris for this coming Christmas ,I suppose. Zidler had been deceitful and had not even told me of the child's sickness. The "Sparkling Diamond" she was once called. While all of the men drooled,I could see right through her. She was like bitter absinthe that struck the mind of all who set eyes upon her face. Ever since she pressed her lips wildly onto mine I had fallen into what all creatures of the underworld are forbidden to,love. After a full night of intimate passion and ecstasy I was cast under her spell. Ever since she met that pennyless writer all she could show was her stubborn infedelity.It drove me mad. All I could feel was jealousy. Her beautiful pale skin, lively red hair, and candy lips were being touched by his grimy hands right under my very nose. She could never spare a minute. They were always doing their stupid rehearsals when in fact she was fucking around with him the whole time. She was a love to him and like a drug to me. Never again will I fall in love with a woman who sells herself. How silly of me to think that someone as rich as I am could over-rank a handsome song bird like him.She only did it for all of the costly diamonds that I bought specially for her. Becoming an actress was her dream. I thought that if I could make her one, I would win her love and devotion to me.No,after all that I do to try to make her happy she backstabs me. It drove me mad to think of them. Now I exactly how wrong I was.   
  
The line started moving again. The man in front of me was wearing a top coat and hat. He looked oddly familiar to me. I was next in line when he spoke to the man behind the counter.  
  
"Where will you be going Mister?" The guy asked him.  
  
" I would like one ticket to Montpellier."  
  
"First class,or coach?"  
  
"coach."  
  
" Very well. That will be 15 franks sir."  
  
I recognized that voice. It was the pennyless writer. What could he be looking for in such a place? What kind of senseless thing could he do in Montpellier? I watched as he took out a bundle of money and flopped it on the counter. He collected his ticket and walked toward platform six.  
  
"And where will you be headed Mister?" the cashier asked  
  
" Montpellier for one please. First class."  
  
" That will be 25 franks."  
  
"Thank you and here's a little tocken of my apprieciation." I put thirty-five franks on the counter and collected my ticket. I carefully started following him being cautious of every step I took. 


End file.
